Daughter of Darkness
by sweetkiwi604
Summary: One shot about Leah Marie finding her strength.


**Author's note: I do not own anything having to do with Supernatural, only Leah belongs to me.**

**I had gotten this request ages ago from my good friend wandertogondor and I just couldn't pass it up. It does center around my OFC from my Leah Marie sisfic however things that happen in this one shot won't necessarily happen in my other story. There are some differences and futuristic aspects that I didn't want to strap myself into.**

**Nonetheless I had fun writing this and I hope you enjoy my dear, wandertogondor this one is for you :)**

Daughter of Darkness

"Shower, I call shower," Sam nearly ran to the bathroom as soon as Dean had gotten the motel room door open.

So I might have used all the hot water yesterday and he ended up with a cold one. That had not gone over very well but oh well what are you going to do I'm female and it takes longer to shave my legs than it does for him to shave his face. In all reality he could have let his facial hair grow out. I, however, will never let the hair on my legs become visible. I am not a cave woman. There was also the small detail that he was covered in mud.

"Yeah, 'cause I don't need to wash up or anything," I replied sarcastically looking down at my blood soaked shirt. Needless to say we didn't walk away from every case unscathed.

I had a gash on my side, I've definitely had worse, but Dean was all over me the second the door closed. My shirt was discarded in the trash and I lied on the bed in my sports bra while he did the best he could to clean it out. I closed my eyes, trying to think of anything else but the fact that my reflex was to punch him in the face as he poked and prodded my wound kept coming to the front of my mind.

"I'm going to need to stitch that up," Dean sighed as he got off the bed and grabbed our makeshift first aid kit.

I watched as he squinted to thread the needle. "Maybe we should wait until Sam gets out," I suggested knowing that Dean would never purposefully hurt me but if he couldn't see the hole on the needle then maybe he shouldn't be sewing my skin together.

"Why?" he questioned like I had just asked him the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. "Alright, don't move."

"_Don't move_," I mocked. Of course I wasn't going to move, idiot. I didn't care if I had a scar or not but I did care that we had nothing to numb the pain as the needle pierced my skin and he pulled it tight before repeating the process. "You're getting too much pleasure out of this."

Dean scoffed, "Right, because my idea of fun is stitching you back up. You know this would have never happened if you paid attention." I went to hit him but he held me down before I could get my arm up. "I said don't move!"

"For your information if Sasquatch in there," I stared over at the bathroom where I could still hear the water running. And he yells at me for long showers. "Hadn't tripped and fell face first in the mud I would have seen the bitch that showed up behind you."

Dean finished stitching me up and handed me a couple of pills and a glass of water.

"What is it?" I questioned knowing we were out of pain killers or I would have taken them _before_ he started using my side as a pin cushion.

"Effective," was all he replied as he pushed them into my hands.

Figuring I could trust my eldest brother I popped the two pills in my mouth and washed them down with the water before I got off the bed to shuffle though my bag for something to sleep in.

"I wouldn't take to long if I were you," Dean commented cracking open a beer and settling into one of the chairs. "They're going to knock you on your ass for awhile and they don't take long to work."

"Awesome," I smiled sarcastically as Sam finally exited the bathroom in a cloud of steam.

I quickly changed and was about to wash up a little until the room started to spin. Grabbing onto the side of the sink so I wouldn't fall over I slightly shook my head trying to clear the sudden fuzziness.

I thought it was just a passing feeling but as I left the bathroom I precariously swayed on my feet and would have gone head first into the dresser if Sam hadn't caught my arm.

"Told you," Dean basically sung out in an all knowing tone of voice as Sam helped me to my side of the bed. My head barely hit the pillow before I was pulled into the blissful realm of sleep.

It felt like I had been sleeping for hours when I felt someone tapping me on the side of the face. I swatted the hand away and snuggled my face into the pillow but when I heard what sounded like my own voice from somewhere else in the room I rolled over.

"'Bout time you woke up," she smiled as she sat stood next to the bed. I couldn't take my eyes off of her…me. I mean it looked like me, sort of, but she had on all black. Her pants, shirt, shoes even nails and lipstick were all black and it made her…my…skin look awfully pale. "I know I'm gorgeous but you need to stop staring and get out of bed we have a lot of things to do and not much time to do them in."

The person standing in front of me certainly looked like me, hell she even talked like me, but how could it be _me_? Oh God, Dean must have given me acid or something.

"Great," I sighed rolling over to stare at the ceiling. "I'm tripping hells bells and I'm hallucinating images of myself. That's not self-centered or anything. And from the looks of it," I glanced over to her again, "Probably sophomore year of high school. I thought Dean was going to have a coronary when I came out dressed like that."

"I'm not you from high school, or us," she tried to clarify. "I'm everything you will never be."

"Well that's not cryptic or anything," I finally sat up finding myself curious as to what I had to say to me. Myself. Whatever, this was giving me a headache. Best case scenario I was having an out of body experience and would wake up tomorrow morning with a good story.

"You've been having a lot of 'why me?' moments lately, or we have been, I should say. But I need to tell you that every thing that happened did so for a reason and you are a better person because of it."

"Meaning?" I questioned uneasily not liking the fact that anyone, even my subconscious, had picked up on it.

"Come on," she held her hand out and grabbed my arm. "We only have until morning."

In the blink of an eye we were no longer in the dingy motel room I had fallen asleep in but in one very similar except there was a playpen set up between the two beds.

"What the…" I trialed off. Hallucinating was one thing, traveling in mere seconds was like something straight out of _Back to the Future_. I was almost expecting Doc to come walking around the corner looking for the Delorean.

"Recognize anything?"

"Uh…" I looked around the room like she was asking a trick question. That's when my eyes landed on _him_. "No, no, no, it can't…how?"

There was a very young version of my father sitting at the small table reading and re-reading a stack of books while two little boys watched television from one of the beds, the bed furthest from the door.

"Dad," I whispered. It had been years since I had seen him. I wanted nothing more than for him to wrap me in his protective arms and for him to tell me everything was going to be alright.

"He can't hear you," she jumped on the bed closest to the door. "Think of this as a very intense memory."

"I don't remember this," I shook my head trying to think back. She continued to jump on the bed but pointed to the playpen. I walked closer and peered in seeing a seven month old me staring back at me. "This is getting creepy and to be honest starting to…"

"Freak you out," she finished for me. "Yeah I figured but it all has a purpose. You have a purpose."

"Um, for what? Spitting up on myself?" Oh god, had I become schizophrenic? I mean maybe this whole thing was in my head. Well obviously it was in my head but had I gone cuckoo for coco puffs? Great I needed a rubber room. Straight jacket anyone?

"Daddy, Sammy's buggin' me," a little Dean complained as a little Sam squirmed on the bed. Dad let out a long breath but kept his nose stuck in the book. "Daddy!" Dean shouted as Sam started pinching his leg out of pure curiosity.

"Boys," my father growled and was half way out of his seat looking more exhausted than I had ever seen him but before he could say anything else little me started crying. I watched as my father closed his eyes and took a deep breath before lifting me out of the playpen and sitting with me on the same bed the boys were on.

"She's cranky," Dean stated using the same all knowing tone I had heard many times over the years.

Dad couldn't help but chuckle as he shook his head, "Yeah, bud, I think she is."

Mystery me stopped jumping on the bed and looked at me with a satisfied smile. "See, you had purpose."

"Yeah," I rolled my eyes, "I'm sure if you asked Dean he would tell you that my crankiness saved the world."

"Maybe not," she disagreed ignoring my sarcasm. "But you did save this family, our family, even at a very young age."

My eyes never left my dad as he bounced me lightly up and down on his knee, little Sammy playing with my toes and Dean playing peek-a-boo with the pillow on the bed.

"By crying?" I questioned.

She just shook her head and grabbed my arm, "There is more to see and we're losing time."

In the blink of an eye we were in an all too familiar house. It was still the past though much more recent. It was a few years ago. Sam, Dean and I had just watched the minute hand tick over to the twelve. Dean's year was up and we had done nothing to stop it.

"I don't want to see this," I tried to blink back the tears the memory being too fresh in my mind.

"You need to," she pushed me towards the room where Dean had been ripped to pieces.

I watched, again, as Sam clung to Dean's lifeless body as tears flowed freely from his eyes and the me of that time slumped down to the floor. It had taken hours for Sam to move Dean. Hours of persuasion that we wouldn't burn him, that I was still there and wasn't going to leave, and that it wasn't safe to stay there anymore. He had finally listened and we buried Dean in a nearby forest saying our silent goodbyes before walking away.

"Do you see your purpose now?" she questioned as I stared at the mound of dirt we had buried my eldest brother under.

"I want to go back," my voice trembled as a few tears escaped. "Take me back to the motel."

"You still don't get it. Do you?" she questioned with a sigh as she reached for my arm again but this time I moved before she could touch me.

"No," I nearly growled. "I don't know what your big plan is and I don't really care. Maybe it's just to drive me insane but whatever it is please…please just stop. I want to go home."

"Do you see your purpose?" she repeated and when I didn't answer she grabbed my arm.

In the blink of an eye we were standing in the middle of a cemetery.

"Where are we?" I asked not recalling this as one of my memories.

"Just watch," she hopped up to sit on top of one of the headstones as I heard the unforgettable roar of the Impala's engine as it pulled in.

I walked over to where a small group of people were standing. Dean, Sam, Bobby, myself and two other men I had never seen before. Something was different, Sam was different and cold. I watched as one of the men snapped Bobby's neck with the snap of his fingers. A second later the man with the trench coat was disintegrated. I don't know what had happened but I watched as I lied unconscious on the ground as Sam hit Dean again and again.

"Stop!" I screamed running forward to try and pull Sam away but my hands went right through him. I turned to look for 'tour guide me' and saw her swinging her feet back and forth like a little kid. "Stop! Make them stop! What is happening?!"

"Watch," was all she replied.

I didn't want to. I couldn't stand to see my eldest brother being beaten to death and then it appeared. Almost out of no where the ground opened up and Sam jumped in with the unknown man and then they were gone. The man with the trench coat reappeared, put his finger to Dean's head and then to Bobby's fixing both men of any injuries before disappearing into thin air. I watched as Dean walked over and scooped me up in his arms before getting in the Impala and driving away.

"Do you understand your purpose now?" she asked making me jump slightly at her proximity.

"But I don't remember this," I argued feeling the anger build up inside of me that we had just let Sam jump into some hole and had left him there. "This never happened!"

"Yet," she corrected reaching for my arm. "We're running out of time and there is still one more thing you need to see."

In a blink of an eye we were out of the cemetery and standing on the sidewalk of a residential street.

"I don't know if I can take anymore," I admitted, a little afraid to see what she would show me this time.

"Look at her," she motioned to an elderly woman sitting on a bench by herself. "Look at us…in the future."

I had to look real careful but as the woman moved the 'daddy's little girl' necklace caught the sun and glimmered. I touched my own necklace and took in the little details about the older woman; the older version of myself. I had streaks of grey mixed in with my brown and there were age lines around the corners of my mouth and eyes.

"Don't you get it, Leah?" she exclaimed in frustration.

"What? That after everything, all that sadness, that I still end up alone?" I questioned trying to blink back the tears.

"No," she shook my shoulders, "that you survived. You were strong enough to take any situation, anything the evil world had to throw at you and you came out on top."

"But as a baby…Dean…Sam…?" I was feeling so lost.

"Even as a baby you knew that you had to keep your family together. If it wasn't for you, you're father would have become so obsessed with finding your mother's killer that the three of you would have ended up in foster care. You would have been lost in the system. You did that, Leah. When Dean was taken to hell you were the one Sam leaned on. If it hadn't been for you you're brother would have self-destructed. He wouldn't have survived. That day at the cemetery I showed you. You were the only person left that Dean felt he could take care of, watch out for. If you hadn't been there Dean would have jumped in the pit with Sam just so he wouldn't have to be alone. You did all of that, Leah. Don't you get it? You ask 'why me' but I'm asking 'why not you'? You don't need your brothers like you think you do. You are strong," she turned and motioned to the elderly woman sitting on the bench. "You survived."

It was an overwhelming feeling of self-gratitude but I had the sudden urge to go hunting; that I would be able to take on anything and everything.

She touched my arm one last time and I was back in the motel room.

"Wait," I stopped her from walking out the door. "Who are you?"

"I'm your mind giving you someone to talk to," she winked before she closed the door.

I shot up in bed with a gasp and quickly looked around to see that it was morning. Both brothers looked over to me with questioning looks as I swung my legs over the side of the bed and grabbed clean clothes out of my duffel.

"You alright?" Sam questioned as I walked out of the bathroom dressed and ready for a run.

"You know what?" I countered tightening the laces on my shoes before opening the motel room door. "I'm going to survive."

Eleanor Roosevelt once said; A woman is like a tea bag; you never know how strong it is until it's in hot water. I never understood that quote until now and whether it was the pills that Dean had given me or the ghost of Christmas past I realized that I was a strong independent woman and most importantly I was going to survive.


End file.
